


Breaking Down

by bethylated_spirits



Category: If I Stay - Gayle Forman
Genre: Anxiety, F/M, Medication, Swearing, Where She Went, breakdown - Freeform, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-12 17:20:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19949971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bethylated_spirits/pseuds/bethylated_spirits
Summary: I couldn’t handle it any longer. By that point, I didn’t care if Mia saw what a train wreck I’d become. The vortex was coming closer, threatening to suck me into it and never release me.Adam reveals to Mia how much he's suffered since she broke up with him. Mia is stricken by the change in Adam, and finds it difficult to reconcile the broken man before her with her former boyfriend.TRIGGER WARNING: story deals with anxiety, mental illness and breakdown.





	Breaking Down

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! This is set within 'Where She Went', the follow-up novel to 'If I Stay', and includes references to anxiety, mental illness in general, and reliance on medication. All of this is in line with the story's canon, but I know that these things can be triggering, so PLEASE take care of yourselves, and if any of these are triggers for you, don't read the story. Your health is more important!

I couldn’t handle it any longer. By that point, I didn’t care if Mia saw what a train wreck I’d become. The vortex was coming closer, threatening to suck me into it and never release me.

“I need a pill”, I said abruptly, reaching for the bottle in my pocket. My groping, trembling fingers brushed air, and my heart began beating even faster. “Where are they?” I panicked, digging deeper into the pocket. “Jesus! Fuck!”

I was losing it now, and I knew it. Mia’s eyes had gone wide at the first mention of pills; now she looked positively alarmed. I finally located the bottle, buried deep in my left hand pocket – the wrong pocket. I unscrewed the lid, tipped the bottle upside down over my palm. Nothing. Nothing came out, no sanity-saving pill fell to my rescue, and I remembered my earlier realisation about Aldous giving me the last one in the car, speeding away from that disastrous interview.

“Fuck!” I shouted once more, hurling the bottle at the wall. It bounced off harmlessly and fell to the ground, completely intact. Unlike me.

“Adam.” Mia reached out a tentative hand, placing it on my shoulder and turning me to look at her. She’s trying to stay calm, but I can see the fear in her eyes. “Adam, what pills? Are you sick?”

I laughed. I actually _laughed_ , my face twisting bitterly as I looked down at the woman I’d loved, the woman who had hurt me worse than I’d known was possible.

“Am I sick?” My voice sounded strange, different – dangerous, even. “I’ll tell you what I’m sick of, Mia. I’m sick of not being able to sleep. I’m sick of always being on the move. I’m sick of the band hating me, of _me_ hating me. I’m sick of the shaking, and the pills which don’t do a _fucking_ thing. I’m sick of the interviews and reporters and concerts, I’m sick of the shit people say about me in the media. I’m sick of waking up in the morning and telling myself it’s just another 24 hours I have to live through, then going through the same thing all over again the next day, and the next, and the next.”

Mia takes a step back, her eyes wide, questioning… fearful.

“Adam”, she says softly.

I step towards her, glaring down at the person who could have made my world perfect and instead blew it to smithereens.

“ _No_ , Mia, you don’t get to talk. When you left, you practically handed me a gun and then left me to blow my brains out!”

“Adam, I –”

“No, Mia, _you_ did this! It’s your fault.”

“I never meant to –”

“But you know what?” I interrupt, ignoring the tears sparkling in her eyes. “The worst part about it is that it’s my fault, too. Because I told you I could let you go. If you stayed. And you did, Mia.” I’m crying now, for the second time in 3 years, which is also the second time in 2 days, but I don’t care. “You _stayed_. You lived.”

_And I died._

There’s no need to say it. When Mia and I were together, there were times I thought she could read my thoughts. And now I’m certain she knows what I’m thinking.

“Adam…” She doesn’t know what to say. I’ve never opened up like this before, not even to Bryn. Part of me blames the lack of anxiety medication, and the other part blames Mia for always getting the truth out of me, even when I didn’t want her to.

“Oh God, Adam. What have I done to you?”

_………………….._

I can’t believe what he’s become. What I’ve turned him into.

In all the time I knew him, Adam was... I can’t put it into words. He was strong, but he showed me his sensitive side. He was confident, but he told me his doubts and fears. He was carelessly handsome, and crazy talented. Now he looks wild, and tired, and broken.

_I did that_ , I think, staring into his haunted, shadowed eyes. Of course at the time, I’d felt like I had to. I was trying to move on, put the death and the pain behind me, and Adam was a constant reminder of everything I’d lost. The one time we’d tried to make love after the accident, I had been unable to keep from crying out and he immediately withdrew, terrified of hurting me. What hurt the most was not the physical pain, but the knowledge that this was one more thing the accident had stolen from me. I’d been put back together again, but we were still waiting for the glue to dry.

I felt like Juilliard was a fresh start for me, a new place and a new beginning. I had left Adam behind, not thinking about how much he must be hurting, only wanting to get away from the remnants of my old life. I had been ridiculously selfish, and I had somehow turned the Adam I loved into the desperate man standing before me.

His talk of pills scared me. He had always condemned singers who turned to drugs or alcohol after becoming successful, called them crazy for compromising everything they’d worked for. “They got what they _wanted_ ”, he would insist. “And they’re just throwing it away like it’s nothing.”

Was that what he was doing now? From what I’d seen and heard, it seemed like the band was going so well – could he really be throwing away all that work, all the passion he had put into his music? Because of me?

My heart wanted to say no. But seeing him like this, I was unable to hide from the truth of what my abandonment had done to him. The Adam who stood before me was a broken man. And no amount of glue would be able to hide the cracks.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed the story. If you found any of the topics addressed triggering, please reach out to someone for help. As someone who's dealt with mental illness for over a decade, I know how important it is to have a support network you can turn to when you're struggling. And if you don't want to talk to somebody you know, there are helplines you can call! Take care guys xx


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